Chapter Twenty-Five #3
He fought off a grin. “I know,” he replied, almost defiantly. “But I wanted to watch you sleep. I have not had that privilege in some time.”
She laughed softly, touched by his words, as she quit the room.
Gart took her hand as they descended the steps.
As they neared the bottom of the staircase, talking softly between them, Emilie caught sight of the pair and rose from her chair.
She appeared in the door of the reception room, her lovely face alight with a smile.
“Lady Emberley,” she greeted. “It is good to see you looking so well this morning.”
Emberley smiled at the truly likable woman. “Thank you, Lady de Lohr,” she said. “I slept very well in your lovely chamber.”
Emilie came towards her, hand outstretched. She was looking at Gart as she spoke. “You have monopolized her enough, Gart,” she scolded lightly. “I should like to come to know my new friend. Go now, and do whatever it is knights do these days.”
Emberley laughed at Gart’s fallen expression as she took Emilie’s hand and the two of them looked quite companionable. Gart sighed, putting a hand over his heart.
“You have hurt me deeply, Lady de Lohr,” he jested. “I suppose I am being chased away.”
“You are,” Emilie winked at Emberley. “But we will be right here, have no fear. Your lady will not be far from you.”
Before Emilie could pull Emberley away, Gart bent over, cupped her face with one hand, and kissed her cheek sweetly. With a wink and a rather provocative rake of her body with his gaze, he quit the entry hall and disappeared towards the rear of the manse.
Emberley watched him go before turning to Emilie and realizing the woman had been studying the interplay between her and Gart quite intently. Her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink.
“He loves you a great deal,” Emilie said softly. “I can see it in everything about him.”
Emberley was floating on clouds, deliriously in love with the man. “As I love him also,” she admitted, not sure what more she could say on the subject. “Have you known Gart long?”
Emilie clutched her hand as they retreated back into the reception room where Romney was stuffing himself with apricot sweets.
“I have known him for four years,” she said. “He is a good man. I am so glad he has found happiness with you.”
“I have known him most of my life,” Emberley replied. “He was my brother’s best friend before my brother perished in The Levant.”
They reached a pair of comfortable chairs and Emilie indicated for Emberley to sit, which she did. Romney came over to his mother and she pulled the big lad onto her lap. But he didn’t want to stay too long, just long enough to be hugged, before slithering off to return to the tray of sweets.
From that point, the conversation was light and gay.
Emilie discovered that Emberley was hysterically humorous and the pair laughed uproariously as they enjoyed warmed, watered wine and a variety of foods.
The more Emilie came to know of the woman, the more sorrow she began to feel for her plight.
She didn’t deserve what life had dealt her until she met Gart.
Around midday, Romney was starting to feel like a caged animal as he paced around the reception room while his mother and Lady de Lohr conversed about their respective childhoods.
Emberley could see that her son was restless so she casually suggested that they all go for a walk around the grounds. Emilie agreed quickly, giving sleepy Christina over to a servant as she took her new friends outside to show them the grounds of Bellham Place.
The day was moist and warm, and within a few minutes of being outside, Emberley’s face was rosy and damp from the weather.
The linen was a cool fabric and kept her relatively comfortable as she and Emilie began to walk the path to the lovely formal gardens north of the manse.
There were massive oak trees lining the path and Romney tried to climb every tree he came across.
Emilie watched the boy try to sprint up a tree. She laughed when he fell off the tree and rolled around in the damp grass.
“Am I to understand that you have three boys, my lady?” she turned to Emberley. “I cannot imagine three boys with such vigor.”
Emberley gave her a half-grin. “Truly, you have no concept,” she shook her head with feigned resignation. “My boys are full of life and mischief. When Gart first came to Dunster, they robbed him as he entered the keep.”
Emilie burst out laughing. “They robbed the great Gart Forbes?”
Emberley giggled along with her. “Do not be so quick to laugh,” she told her. “They robbed your husband as well and would have beat him had he not given them a pence each. That was enough to keep the hounds at bay.”
Emilie laughed harder. “Say not so,” she begged, watching Romney race on ahead. “They are brave young men to attack such powerful knights.”
Emberley was forced to agree. She shaded her eyes from the sun, watching Romney pick up rocks and throw them at birds.
“Gart has tried to break them of it,” she admitted.
“When we went to stay at Trelystan Castle, they robbed the lord of the keep several times before Gart found out about it. He made them return everything but then we found out that Lord de Lara had quite willingly gone along with the robberies. He even let the boys take him hostage and he ransomed himself with the promise of a gold crown each. That was when Gart put a stop to everything.”
Emilie was giggling throughout the story. “I hope I get to meet your boys some time,” she said. “Do you think they will try to rob me as well?”
Emberley shook her head. “They only rob men, thankfully. But I would still be careful if I were you.”
They paused by a fountain that was fed by a stream running across the property.
Flowers of all kinds were blooming, foxgloves and hollyhocks reaching to the sky in a riot of color.
Romney was throwing rocks at the crows that kept swooping in and Emberley thought it was all quite heavenly but for the absence of her other three children.
She tried not to think of Orin and Brendt and Lacy because it only brought her to tears.
She knew that Lord de Lara was spoiling them rotten and that they were well tended. Still, she missed them.
Emilie was watching Romney, oblivious to Emberley’s longing for her other children. She pointed to the boy.
“He has good aim with his rocks, my lady,” she observed. “He will make a fine marksman.”
Emberley turned to her. “Please call me Emberley,” she said. “It seems odd to be so formal with someone who has very nearly saved your life.”
Emilie smiled broadly. “You will call me Emilie,” she insisted. “Or Em. I will answer to either.”
Emberley lifted an eyebrow. “I am called Em, also. We very nearly have the same name.”
Emilie giggled. “The same name and the same blond hair, but that is where the similarities end.”
Emberley cocked her head. “Why do you say that?”
Emilie looked rather hesitant to speak, her gaze drifting over Emberley’s delicious figure, something that had not gone unnoticed by her or by the men at Bellham. She began to make hand gestures around her waist and bosom.
“Well,” she said. “You have… you are much better endowed than I am and… well, you are quite attractive.”
Emberley could see what she meant as she held her hands over her breasts like great cups and she burst out laughing.
“It is the pregnancy, I assure you,” she said. “My breasts grow enormous as the child grows.”
Emilie grinned in return. “As I recall, mine did as well. I look forward to that day again and, I am sure, so does my husband. He was quite… pleased.”
The two of them giggled like girls as the sounds of thunder caught their attention. Turning to the south, they could see a pair of chargers approach from the rear of the manse where the stable block was located.
Emberley recognized Gart’s black and white charger as he roared towards them. It was then that she noticed that Gart was leading a cream-colored pony with a black mane and tail. Romney saw Gart coming and he was nearly run over as he ran out to meet him.
Gart had to settle his charger down as the horse reared up, having been abruptly prevented from stomping on Romney. Kevin was beside Gart astride his silver charger, having brought up the rear.
“Gart!” Romney was jumping up and down, his focus completely on the pony. “Can I ride him? Can I please?”
Gart was dressed casually in a heavy tunic, breeches, big boots and a mail coat. On his hands were enormous leather gloves. He grinned down at the excited child.
“Lord de Lohr said you could ride him while you are at Bellham,” he handed the pony over to Kevin as he dismounted his charger. “What do you think of him?”
Romney was beside himself with excitement. “He is strong and fine,” the child gleefully ran up to the pony and began stroking his face. “What is his name?”
Gart looked over at Emberley, winking at her smiling face. “His name is George,” he replied, moving to the boy and lifting him up into the saddle. He put the boy’s feet into the stirrups and took the reins from Kevin, handing them over to Romney. “Do you think you can ride him?”
Romney nodded eagerly, kicking the pony in the sides to get him going. As the adults watched, Romney directed the pony straight through the flower garden, knocking over a tall stalk of hollyhocks. Emberley winced.
“Rom!” she called. “Take the pony out of the garden!”
Romney steered the pony out of the garden but not before tramping over several other bushes. Emberley sighed heavily, looking apologetically to Emilie.
“I am sorry,” she said. “He has not ridden by himself very much. I will make sure he stays out of the garden.”
Emilie waved her off. “No need,” she assured her. “He is welcome anywhere, even in the garden.”
Emberley chuckled softly, turning to Gart as the man stood there, watching Romney trot around on the pony. She greeted Kevin amiably as she made her way over to Gart.